


Comfort Cans

by Elliot



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: M/M, mute!runner five, radio abel season 2 spoilers, s2m2 - s2m5 spoilers, zrs2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 23:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elliot/pseuds/Elliot
Summary: spoilers for season 2 missions 2 through 5Silence may not be so bad, Runner Five is definitely not babysitting, and Eugene gets company.





	Comfort Cans

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed Runner 5 and Eugene to have a moment. Bonding over beans.
> 
> Find me at http://runner-eli.tumblr.com/ and http://creation-of-boredom.tumblr.com/

We weren’t friends, necessarily. Eugene and I. Or maybe we were. The Zombie Apocalypse changed the rules of the game and any ally might as well be a friend, I suppose. We definitely weren’t in the habit of hanging out though, other than him and … Jack, keeping me company during runs, over the radio. Or with company around.

Doesn’t mean I don’t care about them. I do. Care about them and god, had I been glad to find Eugene still alive. Without Jack though… Eugene had been so… utterly broken.

Not that there is a lot I could do. I doubt he was begging for a hug. Not from me anyway. And besides, I wasn’t exactly known for being talkative.

Maybe that was exactly what he needed though.

I took one of the turns to bring him a mystery can. Usually those would only be distributed to those in the kitchen or the hospital, those on watch duty and those who couldn’t get it themselves, but really, we weren’t that heartless. We understood that he wouldn’t be up to facing the rest of us right now. But we at least had to try and offer some of the already meagre rations. Even if he refused to eat.

I found him on the cot that he and Jack shared from time to time. Even though they each had one of their own. The covers of both beds lay underneath Eugene’s curled up form.

I dropped the sheet that separated the tent into smaller ‘rooms’, the thin partitions hanging on wires with simple clothespins, and made my way over to him. Quiet, but with clear footsteps so as not to startle him since the last thing I wanted was to be struck with a crutch. Or worse.

He didn’t move. Maybe he was sleeping.

I doubt he did.

The mystery can, still warm from when they heated it up a little while ago, knocked against his shoulder by way of greeting. He pulled his shoulders up. Shrugging me off. Probably hoping I’d leave. Which is exactly why I didn’t.

I set the can down on Jack’s cot- or was it Eugene’s? Was he the type to search out every last bit of scent that still clung to pillows and shirts?

I shook my head. It was really none of my business how Eugene coped. I probably would have done the same if …

I didn’t leave. Instead I took a step back and settled down on the ground, against the empty cot. The rustle of clothes, the lack of footsteps away from his bed should peak his curiosity. And it did. Eventually.

He shifted, rolled, and in the dark of the tent it was hard to make out exactly how bad the bags under his eyes were, but there was no doubt about them being there. The Doc was right to worry.

His gaze went from me to the can in my hands and then to the one on the cot. His very own body betrayed him, the growling audible. Yet he was slow to accept the offer when I picked up the other can again and held both of them out. _Pick your poison_ , I meant to say, the offer clear enough.

He struggled up to a seating position and took one of the cans.

I opened mine. Beans in tomato sauce. Not bad.

Eugene took longer opening his. And wasn’t so lucky, but his face betrayed nothing. He poked at the corn with a spoon.

I offered mine, but he dismissed it.

“You don’t-” his voice was hoarse. Either from disuse or from crying. He wasn’t to blame, but it bothered him and he cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Five. Just tired. You can tell Maxine I don’t need a babysitter.”

I cocked an eyebrow. Then simply just focused on my own meal.

“I don’t.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket. The screen was cracked, but it still functioned and with the extra solar charger I had picked up a while ago I could spare the battery.

’ _Not babysitting.’_ I turned the screen to him, allowing him to read.

He watched me.

’ _I’m not. Call it fleeing. Janine was looking for me earlier today.’_

“She knows where you are.”

I shrugged and offered a smile.

“Heh,” he responded, the minute sound sounding somewhat like a laugh, and maybe I had imagined it, but there might have flickered the ghost of a smile on his face.

We sat like that for a while. Just companionable silence between people that didn’t feel like talking, but judging from the moments in which he’d open his mouth as if to speak but closed it again a second later, I guessed he appreciated the company.

At one point he’d frowned, stopped poking at the mess in the can and finally did find the words that went with the idea of speaking. “He’d just-…” and under the lost voice hid an edge of anger. “Stupid. Jack- If he’d just- If I-…” He trailed off again and I kept silent. No expectation, no pressure, not even a stare. He’d get there in his own time if he wanted it out.

He didn’t.

I had gathered up the empty cans and spoons when I was done and had no more excuse to stay. Eugene had handed me the can, but otherwise kept staring at his lap.

I had made to leave.

Before I could, though, Eugene piped up. “Five,” I had stopped to look at him. “Thanks,” he had said.

– 

I’d left him after that. It wasn’t long after that that he started running us ragged on search and rescue missions. I didn’t mind. If there was any chance at all that we could find our friends then why wouldn’t we? I even volunteered for some of the runs. Everything was better after running for New Canton, really. Playing life bait was not my favourite type of exercise. But the search and rescue missions? Those at least had a true purpose.


End file.
